


Real People

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From this prompt: Imagine your OTP slow-dancing to a  love song, with Person A quietly singing the words in  Person B’s ear.</p><p>Song referenced is “Like Real People Do” by Hozier</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real People

The opening notes to the song - their song - float over on the soft breeze from the windows of Herald’s Rest. They freeze on the battlements, their eyes locking in mild horror before they smile and shake their heads through their tears, scarcely believing the perverse coincidence.

She looks down at her feet and prepares herself for _the_ goodbye when Cullen’s outstretched hand comes into her field of view.

“One last dance?” he asks, his voice scratching barely above a whisper.

It all seems surreal, maybe even masochistic, but she takes his hand anyway, just as the bard begins to sing.

One last dance.

They move together in time to the languid rhythm, more awkwardly than they had at the Winter Palace but the steps are the same. It’s the only dance either of them know.

Cullen forgoes form altogether and wraps both of his arms around her, pressing his body close, and she can feel his labored breathing. It mimics hers, and she wonders if this was a mistake.

She rests her cheek on his ratty fur and closes her eyes. A decision is made to lose herself in the music, to commit his embrace to memory, his scent, his power, his heat, the feel of his hands on her back and his hips against hers. She’s done crying, at least for now, yet her heart flutters wildly in the face of this sea change.

She feels him shift, and his breath tickles her ear as he begins to sing softly, his normally perfect pitch wavering.

_“I will not ask you where you came from,_

_I will not ask you, neither should you.“_

She lifts her head up, surprised to see a small smile on his lips as he sings. There’s a sad resignation, a quiet strength in his gaze underneath moist eyelashes, and she cradles his stubbly jaw with a shaky hand.

_“We should just kiss like real people do.”_

Their movements slow until it can no longer be considered a dance, and they just hold on, feet barely shuffling. Cullen sings quietly, dropping a phrase here and there, and she knows that this time it’s more for his benefit than hers.

Their song is finished, and it isn’t until the next jaunty tune is almost over that they finally let go.


End file.
